


Casual Affair

by bortzy



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Casual Sex, Crushes, Drinking, Light Angst, M/M, Wingman Yoosung, mentions of vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-02 17:45:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10949571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bortzy/pseuds/bortzy
Summary: Seven has had a minor crush on Zen for God knows how long. It seems too good to be true when he finds out it's possible his feelings are returned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This doesn't link to the canon story at all, really. Yoosung and Seven went to high school together and were in the same class, and Zen was a couple years older than them while they were there. Now they've both left and gone to different universities while Zen works on his acting career.
> 
> _hey look Ely named another fic after a song_ YES I KNOW LEAVE ME ALONE

If there’s one thing Seven knows for certain, it’s that he doesn’t go to bars.

Unfortunately for him, today is his best friend, Yoosung’s, birthday, and he’s insisted Seven celebrates with him. So now his rule that he ‘doesn’t go to bars’ is being broken.

Something else Seven knows for certain is that he doesn’t drink, and he doesn’t particularly like being around people who do.

He reluctantly agrees to go anyway, simply because he doesn’t want to disappoint Yoosung. He wants him to have a good time, but he quietly hopes he’ll be able to leave early for one reason or another. He’ll find an excuse. Yoosung has other friends, too, so he doesn’t need to feel too guilty. It’s not like he’ll be leaving him by himself.

Except… no one else is here yet. It’s just Yoosung and him sitting at a table in a very quiet bar. Yoosung has his beer, and Seven just has a glass of Bepsi, which he’s tapping rhythmically with his index finger. They didn’t have PhD Pepper here, so he’s feeling a little cheated.

“Is anyone else coming?” Seven asks casually. He’d been under the impression there would be more people out to celebrate with them.

“Yeah! They’re not in town yet, I’m waiting for someone to text me and tell me where they are.”

“Oh, okay.” He pauses and glances at Yoosung’s beer. “You… you don’t mind I’m not drinking?”

Yoosung seems to think for a moment. “Well… it would be cool if you did, but you don’t have to,” he says with a bright smile. Okay, that’s good. Seven’s never had a drink in his life, and he’s not planning on starting now, but he also doesn’t want to disappoint Yoosung. “I can’t even imagine what you’d be like.”

“What do you mean?!” he asks, pretending to be offended.

“You act drunk all the time anyway,” Yoosung says, raising his eyebrows. “You’re already really weird.”

“Says you, weirdo.”

Suddenly, Yoosung’s phone buzzes and he glances at it. A grin breaks out across his face.

“They’re in Scribble!”

“In… what?”

“Scribble… you know, the bar?” Yoosung says, raising his eyebrows. “Have you never been out before?”

Seven shakes his head. “I have, I just haven’t been to many bars.”

“Oh!” Yoosung squeals excitedly. “It’s my favourite! It plays good music and there’s always a bunch of cool people there.”

They quickly finish their drinks and stand up. “Not sure we’ll fit in with the ‘cool people’,” Seven teases.

“Shut up,” Yoosung complains, shoving Seven lightly on the arm.

They walk down the street to this bar Yoosung seems to think so highly of, which is apparently only a few minutes away. It’s starting to get dark, but it’s not particularly late yet, so Seven hopes it won’t be too busy. It’s kind of cold. Seven shoves his hands in his pockets and feels a familiar anxiety start brewing in his stomach.

“Who’s gonna be there?” he asks, trying to sound casual.

“A few friends. I think there’ll be four of them, because some people couldn’t make it.”

Seven nods and hums in acknowledgement, and there’s a short pause. “So… you’re enjoying uni?”

“Yeah! I am,” Yoosung says excitedly. “It’s really fun. And I’m doing okay in most classes. How is it for you?”

“Not too bad,” Seven says with a shrug.

“You’re top of every class, aren’t you?”

Seven grins. “Maybe.”

Yoosung rolls his eyes and groans.

After a few minutes they reach the bar, flashing their ID to the security outside and then heading in. Seven scans the room. Yoosung was right; it’s a pretty nice place. There are a few comfortable looking sofas around the edge of the room, and a pool table in the middle. It’s warm, too, and Seven takes his hands out his pockets, rubbing them together in the hopes they won’t be so cold. The music is nothing more than a soft buzz, unlike most bars where it’s usually too loud to hear the person next to you even speak. Seven’s only been to a limited number of bars, but this one has the nicest atmosphere so far. It’s not particularly busy, either, and a bunch of people who have claimed two sofas opposite each other call out almost immediately when they walk into the room. There’s a chorus of various people yelling “Yoosung”, “happy birthday” and “hey, over here!”

They head over to Yoosung’s friends. Seven shoves his hands in his pockets again and clenches his fists a little to try and stop being so nervous. These are _Yoosung’s_ friends. They’ll be fine.

The four of them introduce themselves, and he tries to commit their names to memory, but the mild anxiety makes them slip right out his brain almost straight away. He doesn’t doubt they’ll easily remember his name. They start commenting on it straight away.

“Seven? That’s such a weird name.”

“It’s not his real name, you fucking idiot.”

“Well, what’s his real name then?”

“Just Seven’s fine,” Seven says.

“You went to high school with Yoosung, right?”

Seven nods and grins, hoping it doesn’t look too forced. “Yep. He was a massive nerd.”

“Shut up!” Yoosung whines. “It’s my birthday. You’re not allowed to say things like that!”

They fall into a fairly easy conversation, and Seven buys them the first round of drinks. They don’t even seem to notice Seven isn’t drinking, which he’s grateful for, because he isn’t sure he can handle them attempting to make him try it, and he doesn’t want to explain why he doesn’t drink, either. Not even Yoosung knows that.

The night slips by, and it’s not actually as bad as Seven thought it would be. He finds himself quietly riding the high that comes with being around people having a good time, which he’s thankful for. Yoosung’s friends all seem easy enough to get along with, even though with every drink they get progressively louder. They keep asking him questions about what Yoosung was like in school, to which Yoosung whines and tells them to shut up, but Seven always answers anyway.

He’d met Yoosung in the first year of high school when they were thirteen, but they hadn’t really become friends until they were fifteen. They’d been paired together for a group project, which, as it turned out, was a _huge_ mistake on the teacher’s part. Seven was smart, but he regularly messed around in class and didn’t bother taking it seriously. Yoosung was smart, too, but he had the opposite attitude to work. He was an absolute teacher’s pet. They reasoned that by pairing them up, Yoosung would help calm Seven down and make him focus on the project. It had the opposite effect, and instead, Seven ended up encouraging Yoosung to mess around with him.

They still came top of the class.

Since then they’d been best friends, and Seven can’t really imagine a life without him anymore. He’s kind of lonely at university, in all honesty. He has friends but it’s not the same.

One of Yoosung’s friends mentions the need to go outside for a cigarette. Yoosung sighs and agrees to go with him.

“You don’t smoke, do you?” Seven asks in surprise. That would be out of character for him.

“No, of course not,” Yoosung says, shaking his head. He leans forwards to whisper in Seven’s ear. “’Cigarette’ is Hyunho’s code word for a DMC.”

“DMC?” Seven asks in confusion.

“Deep, meaningful conversation,” Yoosung explains as though it were common knowledge. “I’ll try not to be too long.”

Seven turns and keeps talking to the rest of Yoosung’s friends. At least now he knows one of them is called Hyunho. Maybe he should have tried a little harder to remember the rest of their names. They’re glancing at some girls over by the bar and arguing over who should go and say hi to them. Seven rolls his eyes and leans back on the sofa, fiddling with his phone.

It doesn’t feel like long before there are hands on his shoulders and sees Yoosung’s head leaning over him.

“You’ll never guess who I saw outside.”

Yoosung’s expression is difficult to read from upside down, and Seven frowns. “Who?” Someone from school, maybe?

“My sister’s ex,” he says. Okay, Seven can definitely tell that’s a grin.

“Oh?” Is he supposed to know who that is?

“You know! Zen!”

Seven’s eyes widen and he sits up, twisting his body round to look at Yoosung properly.

“ _Zen?_ ”

Zen had gone to their high school, too. He was two years older than them and… well, he was the person everyone admired. Almost like an in-school celebrity. He had starred in all the musicals. Even though he should technically have been disliked by the teachers due to his blatant disregard for the rules, they all loved him. He was endlessly charismatic, and he may or may not have been the reason Seven started questioning his sexuality.

“Yep!” Yoosung says, still grinning at him. Yoosung knows all about Seven’s crush on Zen. Yoosung actually knows Zen fairly well, because he dated his sister for a pretty long time, but Seven’s barely even had the chance to speak to him. At one point he was half considering signing up for the school musical just for an excuse to talk to him, but he realised that would be an absolutely _awful_ idea. “I talked to him a bit, and he said he was coming in soon.”

Seven narrows his eyes. “What exactly did you say to him?”

“I didn’t mention your overwhelming crush on him, if that’s what you mean,” Yoosung slurs as he comes round and flops down next to Seven on the sofa.

“Hey! It’s not… it was only a little crush.”

“Hm. Well, he’s a cool guy. He’s not just a pretty face. In fact, his face is way more than just pretty, don’t you think?”

“Yoosung, shut up,” Seven says, shoving his arm a little.

“He _is_! He’s like… a beautiful marble statue. And he _knows_ it, but that doesn’t make him any less dreamy.” Yoosung flutters his eyelashes at Seven.

“What are you doing?”

“An impression of _you_.” Yoosung’s grin could split his face right now.

“Actually shut up.”

Yoosung bursts into giggles, and then one of his friends speaks. They’re standing now, and it seems like they’re intending to finally go and talk to the girls at the bar.

“Yoosung, where’s Hyunho?” one of them asks.

Yoosung points to his mouth and makes a vomiting noise.

“He threw up?”

“No! He’s making out with some girl.”

Yoosung’s friends groan. Is this a regular occurrence? Seven’s not sure he wants to ask.

“So,” Yoosung says once his friends are gone, “are you gonna talk to him? Because if you want to, now’s the time.”

“No,” Seven says rolling his eyes. Just the thought of him even _being_ here, let alone talking to him, makes his stomach flip.

“I could talk to him for you! I know him pretty well. He used to hang out at my house a lot.”

“Yoosung, I’m like… ninety nine percent sure he’s straight.”

Yoosung shrugs. “Worth a shot,” he says grumpily. “Maybe you should’ve drunk something, then you’d stop being such a _pansy_.”

Seven blinks at him in surprise. “Did you just call me a pansy?”

“What of it?”

“Fucking nerd,” Seven says with a grin. He glances over to Yoosung’s friends to see how they’re getting on, but then he sees him. Zen. Standing there at the bar. He has his back to them, but Seven can tell it’s him. He still has that long, white hair pulled back into a ponytail and that… well… that _body_. He’s wearing entirely black, and damn does it look _good_.

He turns around, two drinks in hand and Seven feels his heart jump when he locks eyes on him and Yoosung. He swears he forgets how to breathe when he starts walking over.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you I asked him to buy me a drink and come sit with us,” Yoosung says, in a tone that implies he most definitely did _not_ forget to tell Seven. He just chose not to.

“Yoosung!” Seven hisses. Yoosung just grins.

“Hey!” Zen greets them as he comes over, and sits down on the sofa opposite them, putting one of the drinks on the table and sliding it across to Yoosung. He’s wearing a leather jacket. _God_.

“Hey!” Yoosung says a little too brightly. “This is my friend, Seven.”

Zen looks at Seven and gives him a smile. He’s gonna _kill_ Yoosung later…

“Oh, yeah, I remember you from school,” Zen says.

Zen remembers _him_? Why would Zen, of all people, remember him? “Really?” Seven asks, more in confusion than anything else.

“Yeah, of course I do,” Zen says, and he takes a sip of his drink before looking down at it. “Huh, maybe I should’ve bought you a drink, too. Do you want me to get you one?”

“Oh, I don’t drink,” Seven says. He hopes he doesn’t sound as flustered as he feels.

“You remember Seven?” Yoosung prods. Seven shoots him a look.

“Yeah, I do.” Zen grins at Seven. “I’m pretty sure you’re the guy who got suspended for wearing a dress?”

Oh, right. Of course. That. “Yeah,” Seven says, grinning right back and hoping it looks natural. “Didn’t really think that was fair, to be honest.”

“Discrimination at its finest,” Zen agrees.

“We had a _uniform_ , Seven,” Yoosung giggled. “You wore a maid outfit.”

“A maid outfit _is_ a uniform,” Seven argues.

“It was a very nice maid outfit,” Zen says. Seven feels a weird heat shoot through him. “Honestly, I didn’t even realise it was you until you took off the wig.”

“My God, don’t encourage him,” Yoosung says, rolling his eyes. “He’s ridiculous.”

“Then why are you my friend?” Seven shoots right back, nudging Yoosung with his elbow.

“Ugh, whatever. I’m gonna go see how the others are,” he says, pushing himself to his feet. He sways and drops right back down, giggling. “Woah. Head rush.” He stands again and starts stumbling towards the bar, spilling his drink on his hand as he does. “Have fun you two~” he sings. Seven glares at his back, ignoring how his heart pounds in his chest at the thought of being alone with Zen.

As if it weren’t already enough, Zen stands and walks over to sit next to him instead of opposite, taking up the space Yoosung had just been in. Seven’s breath catches in his throat.

“Why _did_ you wear that dress?” he asks. Seven sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. He kind of wishes he had a drink just for something to distract his hands with right now.

“It was a dare. Kind of.” He pauses. “I mean… I kind of dared myself. Yoosung didn’t believe I would actually do it.”

“So you did it anyway?” Zen asks. God, he’s smiling at him. Keep calm, Seven.

“Yep,” he nods, hoping he sounds light and carefree. “Never was one to pass up a challenge.”

Zen laughs. Seven’s always liked making people laugh, but making _Zen_ laugh… that makes him feel more than just good.

“That’s not all I recognise you from, by the way,” Zen says. “I saw you around school before that, too. I don’t know if you remember me, but I think we passed by in the corridor a lot.”

“I… yeah, I remember you.” _Don’t stutter, idiot._ “Why… how come you remember me?” Seven’s so flustered he can barely form sentences properly. He hopes Zen doesn’t think he sounds stupid. He just didn’t think he was particularly memorable. At least, not for any good reasons.

“I always thought your hair was cool,” Zen says, glancing up at it. “And I remember when you switched out your old glasses for these ones.” He grins. “They’re kind of ridiculous, but they suit you.”

Seven prays he isn’t blushing right now. He’s finding it really difficult to make eye contact, too. Every time his eyes meet those soft, red ones, he immediately looks away out of embarrassment. “Oh… huh, well… your hair’s cool, too. I like it.” Maybe diverting attention away from himself will make him feel less flustered. Honestly, he can barely wrap his head around the fact Zen actually _noticed_ him.

“Thanks.” Zen flicks his hair forwards over his shoulder. “Wanna feel it?”

“I… what?” Seven looks at him, eyes wide. Is this… what does this mean?

Zen shrugs. “Most people ask if they can touch it. Figured I’d try and beat you to it and offer first.”

“Oh… sure. Okay.” Seven blinks to try and pull himself together as he reaches out a runs his fingers through the ponytail. What’s he supposed to do? “It’s smooth,” he comments, heart in his throat. Zen grins.

“Can I feel your hair?” Zen asks when Seven’s hand drops back down to his lap.

Maybe Zen’s drunker than Seven thought.

“Sure… if you want?” It comes out like more of a question. Seven watches as Zen reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair. His touch is gentle and it sends shivers through Seven’s body.

“I always thought your curly hair was cute,” Zen says, and Seven doesn’t know what to think. His brain is racing, but it’s not providing him with any useful words to say.

“Really?”

“Yeah!” Zen lowers his hand and pokes Seven on the nose, causing him to blink and blush in surprise. “And your freckles. And… well, you in general, I guess. Can I get your number?”

Is this really happening? Seven’s not quite sure what to do. “Uh… okay.” Zen puts his drink down and pulls his phone out, unlocking it far more slowly than most people unlock their phones. Okay, yeah, he’s pretty drunk. Seven hopes he remembers this conversation though. He’s trying desperately not to grin like an idiot right now.

“Here.” Zen hands his phone to Seven. “You can take a cute selfie to go with your contact too, if you want.”

“I don’t really take selfies,” Seven mumbles as he taps in his name and number.

“Really? Is that why I couldn’t find you on Instaspam?”

“You… tried to find me on there?”

Zen nods and Seven feels his heart flutter.

“I… um… no, I don’t have Instaspam. Here you go.” He hands the phone back to Zen who slides it into his pocket.

“Hey,” Zen says, voice suddenly soft. “Relax.”

“Huh?”

“You seem really tense. Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“What? No! I’m… I’m fine,” Seven says. Zen studies his face closely for a moment.

“Okay, I’ll believe you. I’ll let you get back to your friends now,” Zen says, glancing over to where they’re standing at the bar. Seven looks over too, just in time to see Yoosung not-so-subtly turn away and pretend he hadn’t been staring at them. “Will I see you later tonight?”

“Oh, uhm…” Seven turns back to Zen a little guiltily. “I’d been planning on going home early, actually.”

“That’s fine. I’ll text you tomorrow? Maybe we can hang out sometime.”

“Sure.” Seven has no idea how well he’s managed to handle the whole ‘acting cool’ thing, and honestly, he’s scared for tomorrow in case Zen thinks it through and suddenly decides he doesn’t want to hang out with someone so awkward. Zen smiles at him as he stands up.

“Awesome. Have a good night, babe.”

Seven almost chokes on his own breath. Babe? Is this flirting, or is Zen like this with everyone?

He has no idea.

“Bye,” he manages to say as Zen walks away.

Within five seconds, Yoosung’s standing in front of him shaking his shoulders.

“He poked your nose?!” he squeals.

“Yeah… he- Yoosung, can you chill?” Seven says as he’s rocked violently backwards and forwards.

“Sorry,” Yoosung slows the shakes, but he’s swaying on his feet so he’s leaning on Seven pretty heavily. “What _happened_?”

“He… he called me babe?” It’s all Seven can think about.

“Oh my God,” Yoosung mumbles.

“I know, and he asked for my number-”

“No, Seven. I mean oh my God I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Oh. Ew, don’t lean over me then.” Seven quickly jumps to his feet and grabs hold of Yoosung’s wrist so he can drag him to the toilet.

“Seveeeeen, I think he likes you.” Yoosung sounds like he’s whining. Seven’s stomach flips yet again.

“Just… let me get you to the toilet so you can throw up there instead of on your shirt.”

They burst through the door and Seven swings open a cubicle door. It’s actually fairly clean, considering it’s a bar. Yoosung stumbles forwards onto his knees and clutches hold of the seat. Seven grimaces.

“Are you okay?” Seven asks cautiously. Honestly, nothing is enough to drag down his high right now.

Yoosung burps loudly into the toilet.

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

“How much have you drunk?”

“I had two beers and… and I think we kept buying shots at the bar.”

“How many shots?”

“Uhm… uh… I… it was… maybe… I don’t know. I had a lot. Maybe two or… six.” Yoosung pauses and sucks in a deep breath. “It smells bad here.”

“It’s a toilet, Yoosung.”

“Yeah… yeah it is.” Yoosung burps loudly into it again. It doesn’t _sound_ like he’s going to throw up, but… you never know. “Tell me about Zen.”

“Right here?” Seven asks raising his eyebrows, even though Yoosung’s too busy looking down the toilet to see his face.

“Yeah, okay, maybe not here,” he agrees. “Can… can we go back now?”

“Back home?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, that’s probably a good idea,” Seven admits.

Yoosung shakily pushes himself to his feet again and stumbles next to Seven towards the sink to wash his hands, which Seven’s grateful for. He was clutching the suspiciously clean-looking toilet seat, and he’s surprised that in itself wasn’t enough to make him vomit.

They head back out to the bar, and Yoosung’s friends spot him and rush over.

“Yoosung! We’re gonna go t’the club now,” one of them slurs a little too loudly.

“I’m going home,” Yoosung mumbles. “Not feeling great. Seven will take me.”

“Mmkay, that sucks, man,” another one says. Seven notices Hyunho is still nowhere to be seen.

They part ways, and Seven and Yoosung jump into a taxi outside. Yoosung’s head is lolling to the side. Wow, he’s _really_ drunk.

“You okay?” Seven asks quietly.

“Mmhm,” Yoosung hums. “Tell me about Zen.” It comes out like it’s all one word, but Seven understands what he’s saying.

“Oh… uh… well, he asked for my number and said we should hang out sometime.”

Yoosung smiles lazily, closing his eyes. “I knew it,” he slurs. “I think you’ll make a _grrrrreat_ couple.”

Seven feels his face flush at the thought. “I’m not sure if it was an offer for a date.”

“Mmm, but he called you babe.”

“Doesn’t he call everyone babe?” Yoosung folds his arms and huffs, blowing some of his hair out his face. Where did his clips go?

“Doesn’t call _me_ babe.”

Huh. Seven blinks. He isn’t sure what to do with that information.

When Seven gets home that night, he can’t stop replaying his conversation with Zen in his head. He doesn’t _think_ he made an idiot out of himself, and if he did, Zen didn’t seem to mind. He even called him cute. His hair… his freckles? Seven had never given much thought to his freckles, but when he looks in the mirror as he’s brushing his teeth, he leans in to study them properly. Maybe they _are_ kind of cute? If Zen likes them, he definitely doesn’t mind them. And his curly hair? He runs his fingers through it, smiling goofily at himself in the mirror at the memory of Zen doing the same thing.

Damn. He already has it bad.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh heck, it's been a minute  
> I'm gonna try and update this more regularly orz

When Seven wakes up he rolls over in his bed and, for once, actually has the willpower and motivation to face the day. It’s a really good feeling.

He reaches over to his bedside table and puts on his glasses before grabbing his phone. As expected, he has a string of drunk texts from Yoosung from after he got home last night telling him what an amazing friend he is and how much he wants him to be happy. Usually Seven would smile and forget about them, but today they warm his heart in a new way.

He also has another two texts from an unknown number, and his heart jumps to his throat in anticipation. Zen? He had said he’d text him today, but this early…

 

            **(07:48)** Hey, it’s Zen

            **(07:48)** Hope I didn’t weird you out too much last night?

 

Seven’s breathing quickens as he types a response.

 

            **(10:05)** No, not weirded out at all.

            **(10:05)** Usually I’m the one saying that lolol

 

He wonders why Zen was up so early after being out last night. From what he’d said, it had sounded like he’d been planning on staying out fairly late, and he was already drunk when Seven spoke to him. Why wake up before 8am? Unless…

 

            **(10:06)** Wait, you’ve slept, right?

 

At university it wasn’t unheard of for people to stay out literally all night. He regularly heard drunk people walking around outside at 6am. Ouch.

It’s a few minutes before Zen responds again.

 

            **(10:15)** Yeah, I have rehearsal today lol

            **(10:15)** And you’re weird in a good way.

 

Seven’s heart skips a beat.

 

            **(10:16)** lol thanks

            **(10:16)** And rehearsal on a Satuday? Yikes.

            **(10:16)** How’s it going?

 

This is probably the part where Seven should try and find out exactly what kind of interest Zen has in him. Is it romantic? Or does he just want friendship? Either way it’s fine, but Seven needs to know in case he gets the wrong impression. How is he supposed to find out? He can’t just outright ask him, can he…?

 

            **(10:17)** Was a bad idea to go out last night lol

            **(10:18)** I have to get back to work soon.

            **(10:18)** I was wondering if you wanted to meet up tomorrow?

 

Like… a date?

 

            **(10:18)** Sure! When and where?

 

It takes a little longer for Zen’s next messages to come through.

 

**(10:21)** Text me your address and I’ll pick you up.

            **(10:21)** How does 4pm sound?

            **(10:22)** We can see a movie and get some food after.

 

This feels very much like a date, and Seven’s excitement is churning in his stomach as he types a response.

 

            **(10:22)** Sounds good.

            **(10:22)** This is my address

            **(10:22)** [Map attached]

 

He should probably ask Zen to specify, but by the time he works up the courage, he’s already responded.

 

            **(10:23)** Not too far from my place!

            **(10:23)** See you tomorrow, babe.

 

Right through the heart.

 

* * *

 

Throughout the entirety of Sunday, Seven is nervous beyond belief. He spends the day leading up to 4pm worrying he might throw up. He’s too anxious to eat. He tries to focus. Play a round of LOLOL. Watch a film. _Anything._ But he can’t sit still. He hasn’t even told Yoosung about the date, as excited as he is, because he’s so worried he might mess it up. He knows Yoosung will be enthusiastic about it, and Seven’s not sure he can handle that right now. He’s already exhausted from the nerves. He’ll tell him about it once it’s over.

At around 3pm he gets an unexpected call from Yoosung anyway. He takes in a deep breath and picks it up.

“Hey.”

“You’re going on a date with Zen?!” Yoosung shrieks, causing Seven to have to hold the phone a little distance from his ear.

“Uh… how did you hear about that?”

“My sister told me! I can’t believe _you_ didn’t!”

“How did she know?”

“She’s still friends with Zen and she said he was talking about it.”

“Did he call it a date?” Seven asks. Maybe he can figure this out through Yoosung.

“I don’t know. That’s what I asked, but she just said it sure _sounded_ like it was a date.”

Seven’s stomach flips. He’s entirely unable to keep up his carefree and joking persona right now, but Yoosung doesn’t seem fazed. “Okay, um… I don’t know, either. He just asked if I wanted to see a movie and get food with him.”

“A date!” Yoosung says dreamily. He’s being purposefully overdramatic and Seven can’t help but grin and roll his eyes. “I’ll leave you to getting ready.”

“Thanks. I… uh, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“That’s fine. Just tell me absolutely everything that happened when you get back.”

“Fine. Whatever. It might go badly,” Seven says, trying to sound dismissive and casual about the whole thing.

“Have fun~!” Yoosung sings, and then the line goes dead.

Okay, maybe he should have spoken to Yoosung sooner because he does feel a little better now. Yoosung has a way of calming him down just by being… well, Yoosung.

He manages to sit down and play a round of LOLOL, but then the clock gets closer and closer to 4 and he can feel his nerves coming into play again even stronger than before.

4pm comes and goes, but he doesn’t get a text from Zen saying he’s arrived until quarter past.

Seven sucks in a deep breath and tries to flatten his stupid curly hair one last time before stepping outside.

As it turns out, Zen rides a motorcycle.

Seven had known he’d had one in high school, but he hadn’t realised when Zen said he’d ‘pick him up’ it would be on that. Not that it matters.

He almost didn’t expect to actually see Zen there, and it’s oddly surreal to see him outside his house leaning against his motorbike and tapping on his phone. His breath catches for a moment. Zen’s wearing all black again, his hair back in a long ponytail as usual. God. How does he always manage to look good?

He looks up at Seven and a smile breaks out across his face.

“Hey, how you doing?”

“Alright,” Seven says, shoving his hands in his pockets just so he has somewhere to put them. “You?”

“Me too,” Zen says with a nod. “You ready to go?”

Seven glances at the motorbike. “Totally ready.”

“Have you ever been on a motorbike before?” Zen asks, offering him a spare helmet. Seven takes it and looks at in his hands.

“Thousands of times,” he jokes in an intentionally overly-causal voice. “I love danger.”

Zen snorts. “Sure, okay. Come on then, Mr Expert.” He pulls his own helmet on and swings his leg over. Seven takes a moment to put his helmet on and climb on behind him.

Of course, he lied. He’s never been on a motorbike before. Luckily Zen seems to have pick up on the sarcasm.

“Put your arms around me and hold tight.”

Seven slides his arms around Zen. He never thought he’d be this close to him, and his heart is already racing before the bike even starts.

The ride isn’t as bad as Seven expected, but he does use it as an excuse to hold onto Zen more tightly. He can still feel the nerves in his stomach, but it’s not so bad now that he’s actually with him.

Riding this bike with Zen is exhilarating, and despite his anxiety Seven doesn’t think he’s ever felt more free. It’s nice to finally be able to breathe, and the crushing weight he usually feels on his chest is considerably lighter. Maybe he should get a bike. Or a nice car. He always liked driving, but even on a scholarship he can’t really afford it yet. Maybe in the future he can have as many cars as he wants.

They pull to a stop in a car park near the cinema they’re going to, and Seven climbs off the bike and pulls off his helmet. He has no doubt he has some pretty wild helmet hair right now, so he tries to flatten it down as best as he can. He catches sight of Zen’s expression, and the way he’s looking at him makes his face get a little warm. The one word he can think of to describe it is ‘fond’. He reaches out and takes the helmet.

“So, I don’t know what kind of movies you’re into, but I thought maybe… you might like seeing that new superhero one? ‘Fantastic Female’?” Zen says as he pulls off his own helmet. Big surprise, his hair still looks perfect.

“Really?” Seven says, unable to hide his excitement.

“Yeah. You haven’t seen it, have you?”

“No. I keep meaning to watch it but haven’t got round to it yet.”

“Perfect!” Zen says, beaming as he claps his hands together and starts heading to the cinema. Seven falls into step beside him.

“How did you guess I like superhero movies?” he asks.

“Lucky guess.” Zen pauses. “Okay, maybe not so much. I might have asked Yoomi what kind of movies you like.” Right. Yoosung’s sister. “She wasn’t sure, but she knew you’d gone to watch some with Yoosung, so… I hoped for the best.”

He’d done research. The thought of Zen asking around about _him_ makes his stomach flutter, but he can’t help but be slightly bothered by something.

“You still talk to her?” he asks in a hopefully casual voice.

“Yeah, sometimes. We’re not close or anything,” he says. “Just have a lot of mutual friends and hang out with the same group most of the time.”

Seven nods. He’s never been in a proper relationship before, so all he knows about exes is what he’s heard from other people or seen in movies, and more often than not it seems that most people don’t talk to each other once they break up. But Zen said they’re not close, and Seven’s not exactly in a position to get jealous. He’s still not entirely sure if this is a date.

They reach the cinema, and Seven goes to pull out his wallet, but Zen rests a hand on his arm.

“It’s on me,” he says, giving him a smile. “I’m the one who asked you to come.”

“Are you sure?” Seven says in surprise, and Zen nods as he pulls out his money and pays for the tickets.

They get a bucket of popcorn each, paid for by Zen, but Seven’s not sure he’ll even be able to eat it because he’s so nervous. They walk to their screen.

“Where should we sit?” Seven asks, and at first Zen doesn’t respond, just leading the way to some seats a few rows back next to the aisle. It’s almost the direct centre of the room.

“Here, if that’s okay?” he says.

“Sure.” They take their seats. He seemed very particular about this. “How come?”

Zen looks a little embarrassed. “I always sit in these seats when I watch a movie,” he says. “It’s where the sound is the best.”

“Huh?”

“Like… when the movie’s playing the sound is focused here, because it’s just in front of the centre of the room. Everywhere else it’s a little skewed,” Zen explains. “It’s just a habit I’ve got into. It’s probably dumb.”

“No, it’s… huh. I never thought about stuff like that,” Seven says, pulling his popcorn closer to his chest. “I always just sat wherever I felt like.” Which is usually at the side of the room, out of the way.

Zen shrugs. “I studied film for a little while to try and expand my knowledge on stuff like that. I want to focus on musical theatre, but it can’t hurt to learn more about film.”

“Wow! You’re really dedicated,” Seven says with a grin.

Zen gives him a small smile. “I am. I want to succeed in this.”

“You will,” Seven says, his response so fast it even surprises himself. “You’re an amazing actor.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah. I mean, I saw you in the school productions, but those were a few years ago so you’ve probably improved since then anyway.”

“I’ve been in a few shows since that, so I hope so,” Zen says. He opens his mouth to say something more, but the adverts start up and it seems weird to try and talk over them.

Seven picks up a piece of his popcorn and puts it in his mouth. It’s dry, and he has to chew far more than he normally would. God, why does his body always respond so pathetically to nerves? When he eventually manages to swallow it, he can still feel the weird taste in his throat. He doesn’t want to waste it, though. Zen bought it for him, and it’s less of a sense of obligation than it is a weird sort of sentimentality. Towards _popcorn_.

Seven has it way worse than he thought.

The movie starts, and although Seven finds it difficult to focus while his long time crush is sitting next to him, he manages to pay attention until it mostly sucks him in. He’s wanted to see this for a while now.

He manages to finish about half of the popcorn and slowly leans forward to put the bucket on the floor. When he leans back, he’s suddenly incredibly aware of Zen again. Now that he has nothing to distract his hands with, he wonders if Zen will hold his. He rests his arm on the rest between them and keeps his eyes locked on the screen. Zen’s hand isn’t even an inch away from his. He could so easily just… reach out. But his nerves are rolling around in his stomach, and that popcorn really didn’t help, so he doesn’t. He just leaves his hand there. The option for Zen to take it is entirely open. Or maybe it’s best if Zen doesn’t try and hold his hand. It’s pretty clammy right now.

Seven finds it more difficult to focus after that, but he eventually manages to get into the film again. It’s actually really good.

By the time it ends, Zen hasn’t reached out for his hand so Seven withdraws it a little dejectedly, and inconspicuously wipes the sweat on his jeans.

Zen turns to him and shoots him a smile that makes his heart skip. Again.

“What did you think?”

“I loved it,” Seven says, smiling right back as they stand up.

“Yeah, it was pretty good,” Zen agrees with a nod. “Admittedly, I don’t usually watch movies like that, but maybe I should. What’s your favourite superhero movie?”

Seven bites at his lip in thought. “That’s… hmm. I don’t know if I can choose, honestly.” Zen grins at him in amusement.

“Difficult question?” They step outside.

“Yeah,” Seven says. “You probably don’t even want to get me started. I’m a huge nerd.” Zen raises his eyebrows.

“I’m the one who told you I only sit in a specific place in the cinema to get the best of the sound. I’m pretty sure I’m a nerd, too.”

“Yeah, guess you are.” Talking to Zen is weirdly easy, and Seven can feel his nerves slowly melting away. “Where are we going now?” Zen seems to be leading them to somewhere in particular.

“There’s this nice pizza place not too far from here,” he says. “You like pizza?”

“Um, of course I do,” Seven says, pretending to be outraged. “Do I _look_ like someone who doesn’t like pizza?”

“Woah, sorry,” Zen says, laughing as he holds up his hands in surrender. “Just checking. Don’t want to ruin our first date.”

So it _is_ a date. Unless Zen was joking, of course.

“First date? You seem pretty confident there’s going to be a second.”

“I can hope, right?” Zen grins lopsidedly at him. “Gotta make sure this one goes well first, though.”

“So far it’s an eight.”

“Eight?” Zen frowns.

“Out of eleven.”

“Eight out of eleven… hmm. Guess I need to do better,” Zen says, and he nods towards a building they’re approaching. “This is the place. Hopefully I can get that eight up to a nine, or maybe even a ten.”

“Not aiming for eleven?”

“Of course I am, but I don’t want to disappoint myself by falling short of that,” Zen says, holding the door open. “After you, babe.”

Seven’s face warms and the eight instantly shoots up to a nine.

He steps inside. It’s a nice place. It’s fairly small, but it’s more cosy than cramped. They sit at a table and both pick up a menu. God. Seven could barely even stomach the popcorn, and even though he’s less nervous now he’s not sure he’s going to be able to eat an entire pizza. He’ll have to just… try his best.

Seven peers at Zen over the menu, purposefully hiding all of his face except his eyes.

“What is your opinion on pineapple pizza?”

Zen looks at him in surprise. “I… don’t mind it,” he says carefully. “Why?”

“Just testing you,” Seven says with a grin, raising the menu to hide his full face.

“What’s _your_ opinion on it?”

Seven lowers the menu but still avoids eye contact, trying to bite back his grin. “I like it. Would’ve been a more fun conversation if you said you hated it.”

“Oh, of course,” Zen says, and when Seven looks at him he’s watching him in amusement. “I can pretend. I’m an actor, after all.”

“That’s no fun,” Seven complains.

“Are you planning on ordering pineapple pizza?”

“Maybe.”

“Disgusting,” Zen says. “I can’t be seen with you in public.”

“All pizza is good pizza.”

“Oh, really?” Zen raises an eyebrow. “So you can put _anything_ on pizza and it’ll taste good?”

Seven hesitates for a second. Does he dare say it?

“You know, I have a saying,” he says slowly. “Pizza is like a blowjob. Even when it’s bad, it’s still pretty good.”

Zen snorts and claps his hand over his mouth as he laughs.

“Oh my god.”

Seven grins, and the waiter comes over at that moment to take their order. Seven ends up ordering a Hawaiian pizza (he only just manages to resist asking for extra pineapple), and Zen orders something with lots of meat. As soon as the waiter’s gone, Zen speaks again.

“So. Had your fair share of bad blowjobs?”

Seven’s face grows warm, but he tries to keep his voice light. “Is this your way of asking about my sexual history?”

“You totally don’t have to answer,” Zen says, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward. “I’m just wondering.”

“I… uh… I’ve only slept with one person.” It was mostly just to get it out the way, honestly. She was a friend at university, and they’d both agreed to just… do it. Get it over with. He doesn’t really regret it. There were no hard feelings and they’re still friends. “And she was okay at it, so...” Zen nods in acknowledgement, and Seven cocks his head to the side. “What about you?”

“Me? I’m the same, actually. Just one person.”

“Really?” Maybe Seven shouldn’t be so surprised, but he is. He’d pretty much assumed Zen had way more experience than him.

“Yeah. Yoomi was probably my only serious girlfriend, so… yeah. It starts and ends with her.”

“Huh.”

“So you’ve never been with a guy before?”

“I’ve… kissed guys,” Seven admits. “Got kind of hot and heavy sometimes, but nothing more than that.”

“I’ve only kissed guys while acting.”

“That doesn’t count,” Seven says with a grin. Zen shrugs and grins back.

“I guess not.” He opens his mouth to say something else, but at that moment the waiter comes over with their drinks. Seven ordered a PhD Pepper and Zen got a Bepsi, and as soon as the waiter leaves Seven bursts into giggles at the thought he might have overheard any part of that conversation. Zen watches him in amusement, that same look on his face that he had earlier. The weird fondness that makes Seven feel warm.

“So, what’s the difference between kissing guys and kissing girls?” Zen asks before taking a sip of his drink. Seven hesitates.

“I… I dunno. It’s all just kissing, really,” he says. “It’s hard to generalise, but in my experience girls are sloppier.”

“Sloppier?” Zen asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Like… more eager. More saliva.” He grins. “Not that that’s a bad thing, just different.”

“So you like sloppy?”

“In moderation.”

“Noted,” Zen says with a grin, and Seven feels heat spread across his face.

The more they talk, the more intense the fluttery feeling inside Seven gets, but it morphs into something that isn’t quite nerves. It’s a weird excitement he’s never felt before, and he has to grip his drink pretty hard to stop his hands shaking. Zen is _so_ easy to talk to, and while Seven is still painfully aware of his awkwardness, he feels like maybe it’s not as hindering as he thought. Zen seems to find it funny when he stumbles over his words, but not in a condescending way. More in a way that shows he seems to find it… endearing. Which is odd, because Seven had never thought of it like that before.

When their pizzas arrive, as expected Seven has trouble eating it, so he does it slowly. He’s never had this kind of trouble with food before. He usually eats whatever’s given to him in a heartbeat, and this pizza is really good, it’s just… _Zen_. His presence gets him too excited to even eat. That can’t be normal, surely? Maybe he just needs to work on his anxiety.

He eats just over half of it, which he feels is acceptable. As soon as the waiter brings over the bill, Zen pulls out his money again.

“Hey, wait, you can’t just pay for _everything_ ,” Seven says in surprise.

“I can,” Zen insists. “Don’t worry about it. Maybe next time you can pay, but this time it’s on me.”

“A true gentleman!” Seven says, pretending to swoon, and Zen chuckles.

They leave the pizza place and start heading towards Zen’s bike again. It’s starting to get dark now.

Seven’s about to open his mouth to speak, when suddenly, Zen grabs hold of his hand and laces their fingers together, causing Seven’s words to fly straight out his head. Zen lets out a sigh of what sounds like relief.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for such a long time,” he says.

“Me too,” Seven says, and he’s pleased to hear his voice sounds relatively normal, despite his breath catching in his throat. Zen’s hand is about the same size as his, and it’s a little cooler. He can’t tell if the sweat is from Zen’s or his own, so he hopes it’s both. He hopes Zen doesn’t mind.

“Did you put your hand there on purpose? During the movie, I mean.” Seven feels himself blush at the question.

“Maybe,” he admits, and Zen lets out a laugh.

“Babe, you’re too cute,” he says, squeezing Seven’s hand as he gives him that _look_ again.

“I can’t believe you like me,” he blurts out before he can stop himself.

“What? Why?” Zen asks in surprise.

“Because… you’re _you_. You were that kid in school everyone had a crush on. Why… why would you ask _me_ of all people on a date?” Seven says in bewilderment. Zen frowns at him.

“You think too highly of me and not highly enough of yourself,” he says, his voice gentle. “You caught my attention in school. Didn’t I tell you that?”

Seven nods.

“I only didn’t talk to you because you were two years younger and that would’ve been weird. But you’re… twenty now, right? And I’m twenty-two, so it’s not so bad.”

“So you only didn’t talk to me because of the age difference?”

“I didn’t want to like… scare you away,” Zen says, looking straight ahead. “I sometimes come on way too strong without even realising, especially when I like someone so much. I would’ve gone for friendship, but I wasn’t sure how to hold myself back, y’know?”

Seven’s heart skips a beat. “You… actually liked me?”

“Of course I did,” Zen says. He seems confused that Seven doesn’t seem to understand that. “You’re the reason I… started wondering.”

“Wondering?”

“About… being straight.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah,” Zen says with a nod. “I always thought you were cute, and at first I thought it was just, like… I dunno. In a regular, appreciation sort of way. But it got more intense. It was kind of on and off, because I tried to block it out a lot, but when I broke up with Yoomi it became really obvious.”

Seven has no idea what to say to any of this. It seems too good to be true. _Zen_ having a crush on _him_?

“I hope that’s not weird,” Zen mumbles after the silence drags out a little too long.

“No! It’s not. I… I liked you for a long time. You’re actually the reason I started questioning things too.”

They’re approaching Zen’s bike again, and Seven feels a sadness start settling inside him at the thought of having to go home.

“Guess it’s good Yoosung helped us out, huh?” he says.

“The best wingman,” Seven says, unable to stop smiling.

They reluctantly let go of each other’s hands and pull on their helmets which Zen retrieves from the compartment under the seat of the bike. This time on the ride back, Seven clutches Zen even more tightly.

When will he next be able to see him? He has no idea. Would it seem too clingy if he asked right away? Maybe he should wait.

The bike slows to a stop outside Seven’s place, and to his surprise, Zen climbs off and removes his helmet at the same time he does.

“Wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t walk you to your door, would I?” he says when Seven looks at him in confusion.

They walk to the house and come to a stop on the doorstep, turning to face each other at the same time.

“I had a really good time,” Seven says quietly, and Zen gives him a small nervous smile.

“So did I. What’s the rating?”

It takes Seven a moment to register what he means. “A solid ten.”

“Out of eleven? Hmm.” Zen thinks for a second, and the silence lasts a little longer than usual. It’s clear neither of them want to part ways.

“Maybe next time you can hit eleven,” Seven says hopefully.

Then Zen looks at him. _Really_ looks at him. It’s not just the look of mild fondness from earlier, it’s something else. Something different and thoughtful and… intense. Seven can’t place what it means, but all he knows is that he can feel his heart hammering in his chest.

“Would it be totally weird if I kissed you right now?” Zen whispers. Seven’s too surprised to respond for a moment.

“Not weird at all,” he says, his voice quiet and raspy.

Zen brings his hand up and cups Seven’s cheek, brushing his finger along his cheekbone gently. His hand is soft and cool against his warm face, and Zen’s eyes trail over him before locking on his eyes. After a moment his hand slides back slightly to rest on his neck, thumb still on his cheek as he slowly leans in.

As soon as their lips press together, Seven feels like the world stops. His arms find their way up around Zen’s neck almost automatically and he pulls him closer. Everything about Zen has been soft so far. His hair, his hands… and his lips are no exception to that. He moves them gently against Seven’s until Seven feels like he’s forgotten how to breathe.

Their mouths open a fraction, and their tongues brush together for a second before Zen pulls back. It’s a relief to realise he’s breathing just as shallowly as Seven is.

Seven slowly slides his arms back down. Zen takes his hand from his cheek and reaches up to brush some of Seven’s hair from his forehead instead.

“Sloppy enough for you?” he murmurs.

“Might have to practice a little more,” Seven says breathlessly, and Zen smiles at him. Seven never thought he’d be looking at these red eyes so close to his face.

“I’ll text you?” he says, dropping his hand back to his side, and Seven nods.

“Yeah.”

Seven opens his front door and then turns back around to watch as Zen heads back to his bike. Zen turns his head to look at him, giving him a smile and a wave, which Seven returns.

Even as he watches Zen disappear in the distance, he feels so light he may as well be floating. He closes the door, the grin on his face bigger than any he’s ever had before, and he can’t stop himself from pumping his fist in the air. He jumps and spins around once, letting out a loud and elated laugh before he rushes to the sofa and collapses on it on his back. He raises his hands above his head and stares at the ceiling. His grin feels like it might split his cheeks.

He doesn’t remember ever being this happy.


End file.
